Reverence | R | The Sandpiper
Title: Reverence
Prompt: He has to have her.
Fandom: Edward/Laura, The Sandpiper
Rating: R
Word Count: 460
Disclaimer: Not mine. Wish they were. Please don't sue.
Author's Note: I got into a sulky mood while watching this movie (on what would have been Elizabeth Taylor/Richard Burton’s 47th wedding anniversary) and this is what came out of it. I really just wanted an excuse to write about the epicness that was is their love for each other. Enjoy!
-
He has to have her.
He just had her only twenty minutes before, but the desire stirring within him is unquenchable. Perhaps this is because he knows that their kisses are not infinite, that he is allotted only so many carnal caresses before he must give them up completely.
He’s never wanted a woman like he wants her. This much yearning and aching should be outlawed. There’s a reason why he’s a man of the cloth. He’s always believed in moderation, in being thankful for small blessings. But with her, he wants--needs--excess. He craves her like he’s never craved anything in his life. It terrifies him that someone other than God should fill him so completely with such contentedness and satisfaction and happiness.
She notices him watching. She grins. “You’re incorrigible, baby.”
“Horribly unbecoming, I know.”
She laughs quietly and places her hand on his thigh. “On the contrary,” she replies, sliding her hand higher to trace the hard length of him through his slacks, “I revel in it.”
Here, now, with her, he feels not like a man at all but an animal, wild and untamed. Gone are his morals, his values, his education, his breeding; he is nothing but a beast driven slowly to madness by wanting more than he could ever hope to give or receive. He has no recognition of this person he’s become. Is this new man Edward, or has he metamorphosed beyond himself?
As he enfolds her in his arms, he wants so badly to tell her everything in his mind, his soul. He wants to lay himself bare. He wants to tell her that he loves her not just for the perfect, supple curves that are so pliant in his hands. He loves her not just for her abject rejection of conformity. No, there is so much more than that. He could speak forever and never have the right words to convey the totality of his heart’s true feelings. There is so much more than love; there is awe, jealousy, compassion, desire, obsession.
There is reverence.
He is in awe of her as if she were a pagan goddess and he a simpering, worshipping fool. He respects her individuality. He cherishes everything that she is, from the violet hues of her eyes to her atheism to the way her tongue flicks against his.
Even now as he enters her and her legs wrap around his waist, he is not as close to her as he wishes to be. He wants to absorb her, to become one perfect, blissful, enmeshed being.
He has to have her because he knows these days with her, under the unrelenting heat of the sun and the doomed judgment of God, are all he’ll ever have.
---
Prompt: He has to have her.
Fandom: Edward/Laura, The Sandpiper
Rating: R
Word Count: 460
Disclaimer: Not mine. Wish they were. Please don't sue.
Author's Note: I got into a sulky mood while watching this movie (on what would have been Elizabeth Taylor/Richard Burton’s 47th wedding anniversary) and this is what came out of it. I really just wanted an excuse to write about the epicness that was is their love for each other. Enjoy!
-
He has to have her.
He just had her only twenty minutes before, but the desire stirring within him is unquenchable. Perhaps this is because he knows that their kisses are not infinite, that he is allotted only so many carnal caresses before he must give them up completely.
He’s never wanted a woman like he wants her. This much yearning and aching should be outlawed. There’s a reason why he’s a man of the cloth. He’s always believed in moderation, in being thankful for small blessings. But with her, he wants--needs--excess. He craves her like he’s never craved anything in his life. It terrifies him that someone other than God should fill him so completely with such contentedness and satisfaction and happiness.
She notices him watching. She grins. “You’re incorrigible, baby.”
“Horribly unbecoming, I know.”
She laughs quietly and places her hand on his thigh. “On the contrary,” she replies, sliding her hand higher to trace the hard length of him through his slacks, “I revel in it.”
Here, now, with her, he feels not like a man at all but an animal, wild and untamed. Gone are his morals, his values, his education, his breeding; he is nothing but a beast driven slowly to madness by wanting more than he could ever hope to give or receive. He has no recognition of this person he’s become. Is this new man Edward, or has he metamorphosed beyond himself?
As he enfolds her in his arms, he wants so badly to tell her everything in his mind, his soul. He wants to lay himself bare. He wants to tell her that he loves her not just for the perfect, supple curves that are so pliant in his hands. He loves her not just for her abject rejection of conformity. No, there is so much more than that. He could speak forever and never have the right words to convey the totality of his heart’s true feelings. There is so much more than love; there is awe, jealousy, compassion, desire, obsession.
There is reverence.
He is in awe of her as if she were a pagan goddess and he a simpering, worshipping fool. He respects her individuality. He cherishes everything that she is, from the violet hues of her eyes to her atheism to the way her tongue flicks against his.
Even now as he enters her and her legs wrap around his waist, he is not as close to her as he wishes to be. He wants to absorb her, to become one perfect, blissful, enmeshed being.
He has to have her because he knows these days with her, under the unrelenting heat of the sun and the doomed judgment of God, are all he’ll ever have.
---